


Captured Memories

by Sirenswhisper



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, mentions of character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirenswhisper/pseuds/Sirenswhisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard's children die while he's away and Thranduil shows him the room he has of their memories so that Bard will not have to live with the agony of forgetting their faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleLynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/gifts), [Ias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ias/gifts).



> This is from a headcanon I had and decided to write.

Bain died of illness, Tilda died in childbirth and Sigrid died in battle. His children were dead, taken from him in a matter of weeks. He knew this day would come, the day where they went where his acquired immortality prevented him from going. He just thought he had more time, or that they would die separately and allow him time to mourn each of them properly. 

He should have been with Tilda when she went into labour, he should have been at Bain’s bedside, he should have had Sigrid’s back but instead he had attended the white council meeting because Thranduil refused to go. So instead it had been Thranduil who had been by Sigrid’s side as the stray arrow had pierced her eye and carried on through to her brain. The only elf in a battlefield of men and he’d gone for Bard to keep Sigrid safe yet it had done no good. 

The elves had been called for too late and by the time they arrived there was nothing they could do to stop Tilda from bleeding out. They had ensured that the baby was safe and healthy but it didn’t ease the grief in Bard’s heart. 

Bain’s disease came from nowhere and wasn’t one that the elves could cure. They had all known Bain wouldn’t last much longer but they had hoped he’d have a few weeks left. When he took a turn for the worst all anyone could do was hold his hand and ease the pain. 

Bard curled up on his side and clutched the pillow to his face in the hopes of muffling the sobs that made his whole body shake. He hadn’t been there for any of them when they needed him and now he had to live with that. He’d been informed upon his return from the meeting by Thranduil of the deaths of his children but not even his husband had been able to soften the blow of the news. 

He had barely left their bedchamber since, feeling unable to carry on as if everything was fine and normal, as if his heart wasn’t broken and his life meaningless. The elves left him alone for the most part, they at least understood how deep grief could go. They didn’t try to make him get up and go about his life as usual and for that bard was both thankful and displeased. The distraction would have been nice but he didn’t truly have a job but to be Thranduil’s confidante, his consort and to sooth tensions between the king and his councillors. None of those things would occupy his mind enough to forget for even a little while. 

It was Tauriel, whose grief was still fresh in her mind and close enough to Thranduil for him to allow her to be close to Bard, who provided him with the most comfort. She would sing, tell tales or spar with him. Occasionally when insomnia hit and Thranduil was sleeping or working and Bard didn’t want to disturb him Tauriel would set up targets and they’d practice archery together. These were the only times he left his rooms and even then the sight of another elf could cause him to flee with little warning. 

Although Thranduil tried to provide him comfort he often reminded Bard of his decision to give up his mortality and for the first time in his life he was regretting that decision. Still there was no going back and he had to live with his choices like everyone else. 

“The king is holding a council meeting later, the Dwarves will be there. I am positive that they would all be glad of your presence if only to stop a war breaking out. Will you attend?” Tauriel asked softly as she sat on the bed by his side. Bard sat up slowly, he needed to rejoin the living. His husband needed him and so possibly did the whole of Mirkwood. 

“I can’t go, not yet. I’ll try after the meeting.” It wasn’t good enough, he knew that but it was all he felt up for. He wasn’t sure he could manage being in a group of people but elves with their long lives and deep love were the most comforting now. 

“Do what you can. I’ll be here for you the whole time, you know that don’t you?” 

“Don’t you have other jobs to attend to?” His mind was trying to clear itself from his haze of grief and was becoming obvious to him that she had barely left his side since he’d fallen to his knees upon the news of his children’s deaths. He didn’t remember much after that other than Thranduil carrying him up to their chambers. 

“I was reassigned to your personal guard.” She handed him a brush for his mess of hair as he stared at her. Why did Thranduil think he needed a guard? 

Questions hurt his head so he set it aside and attempted to make himself presentable. It turned out that he needed Tauriel’s help with this as the finer details of putting on elven clothing were escaping him. 

Tauriel waited until she was sure that the meeting was over before she took Bard’s arm and guided him from the room. The grace he’s learnt from living with the elves had left him and he was having to lean heavily against her. 

Thranduil was sat alone at the council table, his head in his hands. Scrolls and books battered with age and splashed with ink surrounded him. 

“Thran?” Bard’s voice was nearly a whisper when Thranduil didn’t look up. His hearing was so good due to the blindness in one eye that he could always tell where Bard was in a room with his eyes closed. Not being acknowledged worried him, how deep was he inside his mind that he hadn’t heard him enter. 

His head jerked upwards and he stared at Bard as if he couldn’t believe that he was really there. Tauriel stepped away from him and bowed to the king before sweeping from the room. 

Thranduil stood in a smooth motion that always stole Bard’s breath with its grace. He seemed to glide over to Bard as if he was weightless but his strength was undeniable as he enfolded Bard in his embrace. They buried they’re faces in each other’s clothes and Bard’s knees gave out once more as tears spilt freely from his eyes. 

“I thought I’d lost you.” Thranduil murmured in his ear and lifted Bard’s head to look him in the eyes. “There’s something I need to show you.” He stole a kiss from Bard’s only too willing lips. “Walk with me?” 

“If I can hold myself up.” Bard kissed Thranduil’s glamoured cheek which never showed signs of the injury beneath it. 

“Lean on me. We shall share strength from now on.” Bard inhaled his husband’s scent as he was guided from the room and along paths an bridges that he barely took notice of. 

The room they arrived at was hidden away but the door intricately craved. “No one else but Legolas has ever been in here.” Thranduil’s voice was rough with pain as he turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open for Bard to step through. 

The room was dark, lit with only unseen light. Every wall was covered in pictures, portraits, tapestries and more wall art. The walls twisted and turned to make the room a strange shape and maximise wall space. 

“What?” Bard looked around confused as to why he’d been brought here. Thranduil didn’t answer only led him towards a delicate looking bench in the middle of the room. 

“When my wife died I found I had very few images off her. It is one of my greatest regrets so I swore to never make that mistake again. In this room you will find images of everyone I love and your children have a wall and a half all to themselves.” 

Thranduil pointed at them on the far side of the room and Bard stumbled, dazed towards them. There staring back at him in paint with features so life like they looked real were his children. His fingers ran across the picture as tears clouded his vision. 

“I had their likenesses done every year so that whenever they did die we would have a images to remember them by. There is little more painful than realising that you have forgotten the faces of those you hold most dear and no longer walk the world beside us.” Thranduil’s arms wrapped around Bard’s waist, giving him the strength to stand he looked at the embroidered image of a young Tilda. “This was the first one I had done of her, she wouldn’t sit still and demanded to see it regularly to make sure they got her right.” The fondness in Thranduil’s voice made Bard’s heart ache for his lost daughter. 

“How long have you been keeping this from me?” Bard couldn’t take his eyes away from the image of Bain at his coronation when he spotted it. 

“I never intended to keep it from you but I thought it would be a pleasant surprise when you need it most.” Thranduil kissed his neck in the way he knew Bard adored. “I’m surprised you never asked why I was always having your likeness taken.” 

He spun Bard round so that he saw the wall dedicated to himself in a variety of poses and clothes. Thranduil was in very few and Legolas had a corner to himself but since he didn’t age and seemed to prefer a very small wardrobe Bard supposed too many images of him would cause them all to look the same. A beautiful woman’s portrait took up a huge amount of wall space. 

It took Bard a moment for him to recognise her as Thranduil’s dead wife. There weren’t all that many of her pictures around, although he knew Thranduil had a few in his more private rooms which Bard rarely entered. 

“I have more of Legolas, Sigrid, Bain, Tilda and you but these are by far my favourite. There are a few matters that I need to address, stay here for as long as you need. Tauriel will be waiting for you outside.” He placed a key to the door into Bard’s hand kissed him softly and swept from the room. 

It was a painting of a proud and fierce Sigrid, dressed in armour and ready for battle that drew Bard closer once Thranduil was gone. It was difficult to swallow as he viewed her in her glory. She was Dale’s best warrior, hardly surprising when you considered that she’d been trained by Mirkwood’s finest. 

There was an drawing that he remembered Tilda doing of her children. Her skills were not that of the elves but it was so in her style that Bard found he loved this one more than most in the room. 

Time lost all meaning as he wandered the room gazing at each image in turn. The one of himself, Thranduil, Legolas, Sigrid, Tilda and Bain was by far his favourite and he couldn’t tear himself away from it for a long while. 

Tauriel was waiting outside the room just as Thranduil had said she would be. Bard just nodded to her as she lead the way back to his and Thranduil’s chambers. He was too choked up to speak as he nodded his goodnight to her. Did she know that he’d seen two images of her in the room? Did she realise that Thranduil thought of her as a daughter? 

Thranduil was already in bed when Bard entered. He looked up from the scroll he was reading at the sight of him. “Did you like it?”

“It’s the best present you could possibly give me.” Bard undressed slowly enjoying the way Thranduil’s eyes lingered on his body. It had been too long since they had rekindled their love. 

“Surely not? Even better than I time I wined and dined you before taking you under a star filled sky?” Thranduil pulled back the covers as Bard walked to the bed and crawled over Thranduil so that they’re lips were level. The kiss was just a promise of more but they both pulled back with a gasp. 

“I was impressed with your romantic style, still am. But I want more tonight. I want to forget everything but your name.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he was flipped onto his back, his hands held by the wrists above his head. 

“Do you have any idea how much I have missed you?” Thranduil mouthed into his neck causing him to throw his head back in bliss. 

“I swear if you tease me now I’m going tie you down and ride you.” Bard bit out and moaned, grinding his erection upwards to his husbands at the feeling of him laugh into his neck. 

“Tempting but I’d rather be in control.” Thranduil ground down causing delicious friction. 

“That’s because you’re a control freak.” Bard caught Thranduil’s mouth in a passionate kiss. The hand that wasn’t down his wrists ran along Bard’s leg and then up his inner thigh where he was sensitive. 

The kiss quickly turned to the biting of lips and as Thranduil grabbed the lube from where he’d left it Bard latched onto the tip of his ear. Thranduil let out a gasping cry as Bard held one of the most sensitive parts of him between his teeth. The glamour of his scars fell away and the extent of them were on display for Bard to admire. They didn’t just stop at his face, they covered a good amount of his body although those on his face looked the worst. 

“I wish you didn’t hide him them.” He loved to trace the them with his fingers but with his hands still held he was satisfied to run his tongue over those on Thranduil’s cheek. 

“I will never understand your fascination of them.” Thranduil finally let go of Bard’s wrists to lube his fingers. Bard took the opportunity to surge upwards and trace the scars that ran down Thranduil’s back and over his shoulders. His legs were free of as was the front of his torso. 

“I adore them because they prove how incredible and beautiful you are.” Thranduil turned his head away in shame at the medals of his bravery that decorated his body. Bard had given up trying to persuade Thranduil that he found them one of his most attractive features. The idea that elves must be flawless to be beautiful was too deeply set in him. 

Bard’s cock jumped and he fell back against the pillows as Thranduil pushed the first finger inside him. “Missed this so much. Missed you so much.” Bard’s voice broke as he spoke and Thranduil caught the sound in a kiss as he pushed a second finger inside. Bard arched against him willing himself to get lost in the moment. 

As the third finger went in Bard dug his nails into Thranduil’s back causing him to hiss with pleasure/pain. 

“That enough?” Thranduil nuzzled into his ear and Bard wrapped his legs around Thranduil’s back in encouragement. 

“If you don’t get inside me soon I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.” The growl from Thranduil made him grin. Thranduil pulled his fingers out, grabbed Bard’s wrists and held them once more above his head. With that he lined up and slid inside. 

Bard lost himself in the sensation of his husband inside him and that wonderful, experienced mouth tracing invisible patterns across his skin. The whimpers and moans that fell from his mouth filled the quiet of the room and wrapped around them as he arched up to claim Thranduil’s mouth for a kiss. 

They didn’t last long until they were coming together, arms wrapped round each other and breath loud in each others ears. 

“I love you, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” Thranduil always recovered first but it was rare for him to break the silence. That was Bard’s job. 

“I love you too. Promise we’ll get through this together?” The thickness was back in his throat and he could feel himself choking on nothing. 

“I swore when we married that we’d face the world together and I mean that even more now than I did then.” Thranduil’s kiss was sleepy and perfect and Bard’s eyes slid closed the beginnings to a contented smile played over his face. 

Thranduil wrapped him up in his arms and pulled the covers over them so that Bard wouldn’t get cold. Tomorrow they would begin to move on with their lives. It would take a long time, but what was time when you had forever?


End file.
